AllFreeNovel
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Present day—The Dickxie Mansion, Nashville
The doorbell rings. It must be Navarone picking me up for our dinner date. I stop in my tracks. Not a date, a dinner between friends. Friends is what we are. I think. Shit, I need to keep reminding myself. Friends who are technically still married. Friends who do not have sex. No sex. I repeat it in my head.
“Dude are you going to open the door?” Gunner asks from his seat on the couch.
Wyatt pokes his head around the corner of the kitchen, smiling at me.
“How do I look?” I ask, turning to them.
Gunner peeks up from his phone. “You are wearing jeans and a white T-shirt.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, but what do you think?”
“Like a million bucks,” Wyatt says, plopping down next to Gunner.
Gunner snorts. “Like you’re wearing clothes.”
Both look up when we hear another knock on the door.
“Great. I know, dumbass. But do friends wear this when they have dinner together?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Gunner answers. “I fuck ’em and leave ’em. Better than no clothes though. And I’m not the one still married to my friend,” he says, making quotation marks in the air as he walks to the door.
Wyatt chuckles but he morphs it into a cough when I turn my steely gaze on him.
I punch Gunner in the arm. “Aww, stop it. He won’t care as long he can get those clothes off fast right?” He laughs at his own joke with Wyatt snickering and checking something on his phone.
“You’re a pig,” I growl, elbowing him.
“Fuck, just saying. Lighten up. Relax, jeez.” He rubs his arm.
“You’re being, and I quote, a huge dick.”
He smirks. “So I’ve heard. Nice comeback, not. You know, little Allie, it doesn’t pay to be an asshole. Remember this when you’re giving him a hard time again,” he says, yanking the door open, and I groan. My brother the teenager, and apparently deep thinker. Fuck.He has a point.
Navarone looks from me to Gunner. “Hey, guys, what’s up? Hey, Wyatt.”
My cousin waves from his seat on the couch.
“She is being a pain in the ass. Please take her with you,” Gunner says, pushing me against Rone. “She needs something in her mouth.” Gunner ducks one of my moves. “Ha, still faster than you.”
I shrug on my leather jacket before stepping into my black Vans.
Rone tries to hide his smile. “Still stirring up shit, Gunn,” he says, winking at me.
“Bye, assholes. Bring back pie,” Gunner yells, parking his butt on the couch before flicking through Netflix.
I slam the door behind me but I can still hear Gunner’s evil laugh mixed with Wyatt’s.
“My brother never got past sixteen years old. Prison didn’t change a thing,” I mumble.
“Guess you’re right about that one,” Rone says, grinning.
Shaking my head, I follow him across the porch. I stop dead when I see his Harley parked out front.
“You still ride?”
I nod. “Every day, when I can.”
